Back to Normal?
by Kyo-chan
Summary: Al thought that with Ed home, things could go back to normal. Well, not quite... slight Elricest


Notes: This takes place after Conqueror of Shamballah, but instead of the boys ending up in Germany, Ed tumbles back into Amestris. I think that's it...

Alphonse rested his chin against the heel of his hand, letting out a sigh. Holed up in one of the private study rooms of Central HQ's main library, no one but he had to know that his mind had wandered quite far away from the text he'd brought in with him. The fingers of his other hand twirled his pencil, a habit he'd picked up by watching Edward at work. He'd caught himself doing that a lot more lately, watching Ed that is, thinking about him. Certainly, he'd come to expect that the elder Elric would quickly return to the centre of his world once back in Amestris, but he hadn't anticipated to what capacity.

When Ed had shown up encased within the battered little plane in the ruins of the lost city, Al, who'd had little memory of his brother aside from childhood, had been elated. Two long years since he'd last seen Ed, and with four years of his memory gone as part of the price for his own life, it had felt like an eternity since he'd seen the only family he had left. He and Ed had sealed the Gate, Ed by alchemic explosion on the invading ship, and Al with his own alchemy, sending those that would conquer their world back where they came from. The memories Al had lost came back full force, perhaps yet another price, whether for Ed's return or for banishing the intruders, didn't really matter. Al still remembered that day, how he'd fallen against Ed, unable to breathe as he seemed to race headlong through the missing four years of his life, torn by joy and sadness, life lessons, the heartache of loss, and the longing to _feel_ that he'd carried with him while trapped in a metal shell that couldn't. It had been his brother that held him, murmuring to him quietly, reminding him how to take each breath in and out, every word sealing the promise that Ed was finally home and not about to leave.

Now, just a few short months later, under the command of Brigadier-General Mustang, he and Edward had reached some semblance of a normal life, each of them working in the Flame Alchemist's unit, surrounded by the people that had been with them nearly from the start, and now that Al could remember them, there was a certain sort of comfort to be had, even if he'd never worked so hard in his life. Their daily routine had consisted of mostly a desk job, with interludes for alchemic research on the side, and the occasional quiet day. Al saw everything from field reports to budget histories, to even the most random bits that made their way up to the General's office. He had never been happier, however, to receive a title like his brother's…the new Major Elric, the Soul Theory alchemist.

That…was about where the normalcy ended, Al noticed. And it was with an unsettling feeling, locked in this little room and letting his mind wander, that Al realised he was the source of that change. Just thinking about it again made his chest tighten and the pencil slip from his now-still fingers. This was how it had been for the last couple of weeks, every time he was close to Ed, anytime he heard the easygoing laugh or watched him for too long, he felt a need so sharp, so natural and yet frightening at the same time. He wasn't stupid. This was a kind of need one expressed to a lover, the kind that made a breath catch, a heart race, skin tingle to be touched. Al had maybe felt such stirrings of attraction once or twice after being pulled from the armour, and he'd come to accept the sensitivity of his body after not having one for so long. He knew what this was, but never had he felt it so strongly as he now did for the one person who wouldn't understand it a single bit.

Forgetting that Edward was his brother (and that was a rather large and near-impossible thing to forget), Al knew very well that his sibling had given no indication that he was attracted to anyone, regardless of gender. The Fullmetal Alchemist was known for his explosive temperament…and scholarly dedication to alchemy. Now, if _alchemy_ had a pair of legs and something like a transmutation circle between them, _maybe_ Ed would show some measure of libido. But no, he went through his days blithely disregarding the fact that he was 19 years old and should have been attracted to at least someone, even if was someone as unlikely as his nemesis and commanding officer, Mustang. Al couldn't help the feeling that if he was the one attracted to Ed, the whole thing was surely a lost cause. Not that he should be thinking about it working in any way.

Not that he _should_. But he _did_.

By sharing both office space and living space with the older blonde, Al had all too much fodder to feed this desire that should have been forbidden, but try as he might, he couldn't ignore it. It was part of the reason for his escape that day, Ed becoming a heavy distraction just by being himself, with a spectacularly loud lecture at Mustang about a report he had to edit, an hour of alchemy training in the courtyard, with pieces of his uniform discarded for mobility, (oh, and did Al even need to mention the delicious combination of Ed and uniform?) and having lunch at his desk with a textbook and that damn dexterous twirling of the pencil in what Al knew was the automail hand beneath the glove. Dammit! Why Ed?! Hell, finding himself falling for Falman would have been easier to handle (despite him being at least twice his age and already seeing a woman), after all, he didn't have to _live_ with Falman, didn't have to _spar_ with Falman, and he certainly didn't have to sleep in the same small dorm bedroom, listening to the soft breathing and wishing for that warmth on his own skin…

Al groaned loudly in frustration, dropping his head onto his arms with a soft thud. He squirmed a little in his seat as that very thought took him back to any of the late nights he'd spent wide awake just listening and watching Ed sleep. He felt like a damn stalker and fought with the idea in the back of his head that he had every right to be there. /_But not to think of my brother like_ that/… He didn't want to know what Ed would think, how he would react, too afraid of that explosive temper turned on him, coupled with an even more terrifying expression…disgust. Al shuddered, biting his lip. There was no reason that Ed had to know…and maybe it was just a phase anyhow, and that's what Al kept trying to tell himself every time he thought about holding his sibling close and not letting go, imagined how it would feel to kiss his lips. Often times, when he could afford to let the thoughts continue (which was never at work because the resulting evidence would be all too apparent), he allowed himself to think about the feel of Ed's skin, his scent, and what it would be like to feel the automail on him in more intimate contact than their traditional sparring. Letting such fantasies go didn't help him with his attempts to push the unacceptable feelings from his mind; far from it. If anything, he was certain that how he felt was only getting stronger. Soon, he wouldn't be able to contain it, and he'd either have to come up with something fast or risk Ed finding out somehow. As close as Edward was to him, sharing all their emotions together, not being able to tell him anything at all made it twice as difficult for Al.

Being here alone wasn't helping. Al pushed himself up, slamming the book he hadn't been reading shut, picking up his pencil. Just a little longer…if he held out just a little longer, maybe it would fade after all. A humourless laugh fluttered from his throat at that, and he shook his head, heading back to the office. He couldn't hide forever, and doing so only deprived him of more chances to watch and appreciate the most important person in his life. Too important. Was that possible? Al sighed as he sank into his chair, smile pleasant to the others in the room, catching a flicker of gold out of the corner of his eye. Before he knew it, Ed's presence filled his attention once more, allowing him only one very unfortunate conclusion.

He was so screwed.


End file.
